


i desire, and i crave

by Prevalent_Masters



Series: Bathing through the ages [2]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Blindfolds, Bottom Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Dirty Talk, Fluff, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Light Choking, Light Dom/sub, M/M, PWP, They're In Love Your Honor, sappy praise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:34:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29523012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prevalent_Masters/pseuds/Prevalent_Masters
Summary: Yusuf finds himself blushing. “You know about the baths here?”Nico nods. “Andromache and I visited them earlier this week. They were very nice. Not nice enough for her to forget how angry she was.”“Quỳnh says they have private pools.”Nico’s brows rise. “Do they?”“I don’t suppose you’d want to try them out.”“Why yes,” Nico says. “I think I would.”Or, Yusuf and Nico visit the baths after a difficult job and Nico gives Yusuf what he needs.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: Bathing through the ages [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2168556
Comments: 25
Kudos: 135





	i desire, and i crave

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pherryt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pherryt/gifts).



> This is a follow-up to another fic, because [pherryt's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pherryt) prompt for the All and More Kaysanova Gift Bag event took me by the throat and won't let me go. The first installment was the first time they'd ever shared a bath, so here's the post-battle tradition bath and smut with a side helping of shibari. There is a third installment with even more shibari sitting in my docs right now, so stay tuned. Here's the original prompt, for those curious:
> 
> _short prompts: 'Tub sharing', Soulmates, shibari - either or, or both (taking turns?)_
> 
> _Long prompt : Tub sharing can be smutty or not smutty (yes, it CAN be done!). I just really want our boys in love taking care of each other. is this soon after their first time? or is this the first time they've every shared a bath together (which can also be non tub shapes. like rivers, lakes, whatever) or has this become a post battle tradition? or is this their millionth time and it feels just as special as the first. (can combine any prompts together if you want)_
> 
> A few warnings going in: the bondage and dom/sub dynamics are light, but there is some light choking and manhandling, so be aware of that. Also, Joe is in the "sub" role here, so if that doesn't float your boat you might want to click away.
> 
> A few historical notes and other stuff, as always, in the endnotes!
> 
> Massive thanks to [flamingbluepanda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flamingbluepanda/pseuds/Flamingbluepanda) and [beans_on_toast](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beans_on_toast) for the read-throughs, and most importantly [Fuinixe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuinixe/pseuds/Fuinixe) for reminding me about LUBE oh my god.
> 
> Title from Sappho.

**Tbilisi**

**1200**

Quỳnh oozes satisfaction as they trek through the dense forest outside the city. Yusuf personally is in a terrible mood, given they’re about a week later than planned for their rendezvous with the royal court of the Kingdom of Georgia, where Andromache and Nico wait. Andromache is great friends with their queen, and Nico stayed behind with her while Yusuf and Quỳnh dealt with a landowner to the south of the city who was taxing his people to death. As it happened, he had a larger group of loyal soldiers than they anticipated and, well — suffice it to say he’s tired, grumpy, died a few too many times, and isn’t looking forward to the way Nico will chew them out for being late when they do finally get back to him. He’s not sure what Quỳnh is smiling about; Andromache’s fury burns far brighter than Nico’s.

He finally breaks when Quỳnh skips down an incline. “What are you so happy about? Did you _enjoy_ that absolute disaster we both just fought through?”

“Not at all,” Quỳnh says lightly. “I am merely looking forward to seeing Andromache and Nico again.”

“Andromache and Nico are going to kill us,” Yusuf groans. “A _week_ late, Quỳnh, we’re lucky they didn’t come looking.”

“They trust us, brother. They knew we could handle it. And yes, they will be angry, because they were afraid, but we can convince them to forgive us I think, no?” she winks and grins rakishly. 

He raises a brow. “And how do you plan to do that?”

“I,” Quỳnh says, with great satisfaction, “will be taking my Andromache to a private pool in the baths, and I will keep her there for at least a full day, if not longer.”

“The baths?” he asks, and Quỳnh turns to him with a sudden wild grin on her face. “ _Oh_ ,” she says. “I forgot you have not traveled here before. This city is famous for its warm baths, mineral of some sort. They say it’s wonderful for the health. Everyone sends their sick and elderly and infirm here, where the physicians charge them ridiculous prices to tell them to soak thrice daily, or some such nonsense…. But anyway, there are private pools you can pay to occupy by the hour. It’s lovely, warm pools and cool water to rinse off with, and stone benches to rest on. So many options.” She’s staring at him meaningfully. “Andromache and I have passed many happy hours in these baths.”

“You bathe for _hours_? I — _oh_. Oh. I see.”

“Yes,” Quỳnh says serenely. “I suggest you follow my example. I suspect Nico will be as amenable to this apology for our extended absence as Andromache.” She nudges him with a shoulder and smirks. “Perhaps we should stop at the market and pick up some oil before —”

“Quỳnh!” he cuts her off loudly and she laughs. “I already have some, anyway,” he mumbles, and she laughs again.

* * *

Instead of shouting at him, Nico just takes him in his arms and hugs him, holding on tight, face tucked up against his neck. The look of naked relief on his face when they walked into the palace was almost worse than anger. Andromache yells enough for the both of them, until Quỳnh wraps her arms around her shoulders and whispers something in her ear. Andromache stops mid-sentence, grips Quỳnh by the wrist, and marches her out of the room.

Nico, arm still tight around Yusuf’s shoulders, says, “What?”

Yusuf finds himself blushing. “She — you know about the baths here?”

Nico nods. “Andromache and I visited them earlier this week. They were very nice. Not nice enough for her to forget how angry she was.”

“Quỳnh says they have private pools.”

Nico’s brows rise. “ _Do_ they?”

“I don’t suppose you’d want to try them out.”

“Why yes,” Nico says. “I think I would.”

* * *

After two weeks of inglorious fighting, bathing in cold streams and sleeping on the muddy ground, the baths are a luxury Yusuf can barely comprehend. The richly tiled walls and pools, the scent of oils and the feel of steam against his skin remind him of bathhouses much closer to home; of the baths they used to visit in Constantinople when their relationship was shaky and new, where they touched each other in the steam quickly and quietly, hiding away in the shadows. The heaviness of years gone by settles itself on his shoulders like an old friend layered over the exhaustion from the job, the memories clamoring and melancholy. He knows Nico notices because after they’re led to a private room and they wave away the attendants and the boys eager to earn a few coins through their massage services, he puts a heavy hand on the back of Yusuf’s neck and guides him to sit on a low stone bench.

“It was a difficult trip,” Nico surmises, voice low and soothing in Yusuf’s ear. Just the sound of it, the heaviness of his hand, relaxes his shoulders. He sighs and drops his head forward.

“Yes,” he says, and Nico digs his fingers into the knots at the base of his neck. 

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Nico says. “Not yet. Just let me take care of you.”

He wants to argue. He wants to say he doesn’t need to be taken care of, that he wants to take care of Nico, too — but Nico’s hand tightens and he groans instead.

“Good,” Nico says softly, and a shiver runs through him. Nico’s voice like this — low, rough, edging on danger — it _does_ something to Yusuf. Nico drops a barely-there kiss at the base of his neck and he can’t help but groan again. 

Nico sets down his bag and efficiently divests himself of his clothing before Yusuf even finishes taking off his boots. Yusuf wishes he’d take more time with it, make a show of it for him to watch, but all of Nico’s attention is on him. He drops his smallclothes and Yusuf’s eyes catch on the swell of his ass as he bends to gather his clothes and he can’t pull himself away. His love’s ass, his muscled thighs, his tapered waist and broad shoulders — truly, Nicolò always has and always will take his breath away.

“Stand for a moment,” Nico murmurs, coming back to him, and Yusuf tears his gaze away and pulls himself to his feet. Nico smiles at him and reaches for the first tie of his jacket. In direct contrast to the way he undressed himself, Nico takes an excruciatingly long time to undress Yusuf. Tie by tie, button by button, inch by inch, kissing every bit of skin as he exposes it to the warm, steamy air. Yusuf groans and tugs at Nico’s hair, urging him on, but Nico doesn’t hurry for all his impatience. “Shush,” he whispers as he kisses Yusuf’s thigh, down on his knees on the tiled floor. His breath ghosts over Yusuf’s cock and he whimpers. “You know I love to see you like this.”

Yes, Yusuf knows. Yusuf also knows Nico knows how this gets him — coiled and desperate, until he reaches a precipice and falls just the way Nico wants him to, like clay in Nico’s broad, capable hands.

“ _Nico_ ,” he whispers when Nico finally slides the last of his underthings off, and Nico looks up at him with that wicked, crooked grin and swallows him whole. After all the teasing, light touches, it is almost too much, and Yusuf comes embarrassingly quickly, head tipped back against the tile and eyes fluttered shut. Or, it would be embarrassing if it wasn’t exactly what Nico wanted from him. Nico sits back on his heels when Yusuf whimpers with overstimulation, running his hands up Yusuf’s inner thighs, smiling and licking a drop of come from his lips. Yusuf loves him.

“Beautiful,” Nico murmurs. “You are always so beautiful for me.”

“Nicolò,” he says again, and he is already reduced to this—to Nico’s name, nothing more. He drops his head back against the tiles and Nico laughs and rises to his feet in one graceful movement, holding out a hand.

“Come,” he says. “Let me wash you.”

Yusuf lets him guide him to the pool, legs a little wobbly. Nico keeps his hands on his shoulders as he steps into the water and sighs at the warmth of it, sinking down and closing his eyes.

“Good,” Nico says again, and he melts, head tipping back, smiling as Nico maneuvers behind him until Yusuf is resting against his chest, his hands roving up and down his body, catching at his collarbone and nipples. Nico waits until he is boneless again, relaxed against him, before he speaks in his ear.

“My love,” he asks softly. “May I cover your eyes?” He reaches behind him and offers up a soft piece of dark silk, a sash from the fine clothing he has been wearing in the company of the queen.

“Why?” he says, though he should know better than to question Nico’s whims when he is in these moods. He always seems to know exactly what Yusuf needs.

“Because I want you to focus on nothing but me,” Nico says softly. “On how it feels, on the sound of my voice, on the ways that I touch you.”

He shivers, and nods, tilting his head up slightly in permission. Nico smiles and wraps the silk around his eyes. The soft fabric effectively blocks the already dim light of the baths, and he is blind. He shivers again, until Nico’s hands return to him, stroking up his belly, skimming his ribs, resting again on his neck and shoulders. He’s acquired soap somewhere, and rubs it gently over him, soothing the ache of travel and washing the lingering grime away. Nico’s fingers dig into the tight muscles of his shoulders and neck, rub his thighs and under his arms, and skim low to knead into the base of his spine, ghosting fingers across the swell of his ass.

Yusuf gasps at that touch and presses back into him, moving his hips ever so slightly. Nico chuckles and runs a hand up to his throat, circling his fingers around it ever so gently. “So eager already?”

He lets his head fall back in Nico’s grip. “ _Nico_. Please.”

“Relax, Yusuf. I told you to let me take care of you. Would you disobey me?”

“No,” he gasps, his cock swelling at Nico’s words. “Never.”

“I know what you need,” Nico says quietly, his breath a ghost against Yusuf’s ear, and he was right; every word, every touch, every breath is heightened, his entire world narrowed down to Nico, Nico, _Nico_. “Let me give it to you.” He increases the pressure against his throat ever so slightly, and Yusuf gasps again and goes boneless.

“Good,” Nico says, and the praise is like warm honey dripping down his throat. “You’re so good, Yusuf. You deserve this. You deserve a break, you deserve to be taken care of.” His other hand strokes Yusuf's chest and lands on his nipple, tapping and pinching and tickling until he’s moaning, high and breathy around Nico’s hand on his throat. He jerks his hips up again, and Nico laughs.

When Nico’s hand skirts around his half-hard dick and starts playing with his balls, Yusuf can’t help the yelp that comes out of his mouth, nor the way his hands jump, one to clutch in Nico’s hair, the other grasping the hand at his throat. Nico laughs again and doesn’t let up with his slow massage of his balls, but twines their fingers together and draws Yusuf’s hand back down to his side, leaving his throat a little cold. “Hands to yourself,” he says softly. “You know the rules.” 

With difficulty, he releases his hold on Nico’s silky hair and lets his hand drop back down into the water. Nico busies his other hand back at Yusuf’s nipples, teasing and pinching as he fondles his balls. He’s ignoring his cock entirely, and though Yusuf knows that’s part of the game, he can’t help but writhe around a bit, groaning. He feels Nico against the small of his back, hot and hard. If he can get him excited enough, he thinks, maybe the teasing will stop.

Nico doesn’t fall for it, just chides him gently before sliding him forward a bit. Blind, Yusuf clutches at him, but Nico steadies him. “Just turn,” he says softly. “Come, sit over my lap.” Nico guides him as he splashes around, hoisting him up. He feels the warm stones of the bathhouse floor under his knees as he straddles Nico and surmises he has pulled them up to sit on the edge of the pool. Anticipation shivers through him. 

“Oh, Yusuf,” Nico whispers, running his hands up and down his back. “So needy, aren’t you? So desperate. Tell me what you want.”

“You,” he manages as Nico’s fingers ghost over his ass, pressing against his hole ever so slightly. “Just you, Nico.”

“Hmmm,” Nico hums, and Yusuf can hear the smile on his lips. “Just me. I like that.” He presses a finger against him, circling, increasing the pressure and Yusuf gasps and leans forward, arms coming up again to brace himself, one hand on Nico’s chest, one clutching his shoulder tight enough he’s probably leaving fingerprints. Nico’s finger leaves him immediately and he groans at the loss.

“What did I say about your hands?” he asks mildly, and Yusuf groans again and drops them back to his sides, but it’s too late — he knows that. Maybe, just maybe, he did it on purpose.

“Hands behind your back,” Nico says, and when Yusuf’s breath stutters he runs a soothing hand along his spine. “Don’t worry, my love. I won’t let you fall. I’ll keep you safe.”

The catch in his breathing had nothing to do with safety, or worries over a silly, accidental death drowning in a bath while making love. Perhaps Yusuf _should_ be worried about those things, but he trusts Nico completely, knows Nico will keep him safe. Craves the feeling of being bound, cradled in his arms.

Nico leans away, and the rustle of cloth is nearly deafening in the quiet room. The trail of the rope across Yusuf’s skin, soft enough to not cause pain, rough enough there’s no chance of forgetting it’s there, sends up a flair of goosebumps.

“You did come prepared,” he murmurs as Nico binds his arms, hands to the opposite elbow, tight enough to keep him in place but loose enough Yusuf could tear himself free if he really needed to.

“Of course I did,” Nico replies. “I told you, I always know what you need.”

“Yes,” he sighs, relaxing into Nico’s body as his fingers, slick with oil now, start circling his hole again. “Always.”

Nico opens him up slow, refusing to concede to the need and impatience thrumming through Yusuf’s body or his insistent moans and begging. He keeps it at one finger for what feels like forever, slowly moving in and out, adding so much oil Yusuf feels it dripping obscenely down his thighs, circling and barely brushing against his prostate. Yusuf’s cock is hard, straining, his body flushed and taut with need. He wonders what he looks like, blind and bound and straddling Nico’s lap, head heavy and lolling against Nico’s shoulder as he drives in that single finger, over and over again. Then, when Yusuf is nothing but a gasping puddle, Nico rearranges him, laying him down so his chest is flush to the stone floor, legs in the water, bent over the edge of the pool, and goes in with two fingers, picking up the pace significantly. He adds a third a little early this time, enough for Yusuf to burn with it, which he loves. Now his fingertips tease his prostate with every thrust, and Yusuf grinds against the rough stone below him even though it hurts. Nico puts a stop to that with a sharp slap to his ass and an order to stay still.

“Nico, please, I can’t —”

“You _can’t?_ ”

“I — I —”

“Not yet. Patience, Yusuf.”

Patience. He wrestles himself back from the edge, because Nico wants him to. Because Nico believes he can, and he wants to be good for Nico. He wants to make him proud.

“Oh, Yusuf, you do. You make me so proud, you are so good.”

He hadn’t realized he was talking out loud, babbling between groans and cries. Private room or no, he’s sure other patrons are perfectly aware of what they’re doing. But nobody is bothering them, and so he finds he doesn’t care. The world is narrow, here. Just him and Nico. All he needs.

Nico’s fingers leave him, and he cries out at the loss. Nico hushes him, hand heavy on the small of his back, and then pulls him up in a flurry of movement that leaves him disoriented. He’s upright over Nico’s lap again, and Nico’s big, wonderful hands are hot on his hips, guiding him down, down —

“ _Ah —_ ” he gasps, head thrown back, and grinds down to seat himself fully on Nico. Nico’s breath hitches slightly, the first indication he’s shown that he’s as affected by all this as Yusuf is. Yusuf smiles at the sign and grinds down again, clumsy from the position and the bindings, but still effective if Nico’s little groan is anything to go by. His hands land back at Yusuf’s hips, guiding him up and down, bouncing him on his cock, and Yusuf, pliant and willing, lets him.

Nico starts out sedate and steady, hands everywhere _besides_ Yusuf’s cock, impressive in his own self control. Only after Yusuf is practically sobbing, writhing in his lap, does he pick up his pace, jerking his hips up into Yusuf, hands back at his waist, helping him rise and drop to meet his thrusts. Yusuf leans forward, seeking blindly, and Nico understands and meets him halfway, crushing their lips together. Their breaths mingle as they gasp into each other’s mouths, messy and barely a kiss at all, really, more of an open-mouthed reassurance that they are there together, sharing this, sharing breaths.

“Nico,” he pants.

“Yusuf,” Nico says, a whisper in his ear.

“I want to see you,” he manages. “I —”

“Of course,” Nico says immediately, and the silk slips away from his eyes. He blinks into the dimness, blinks into Nico’s light eyes, and smiles.

Nico smiles back. “Are you with me, my love?” His hand runs a broad, warm line up and down the plane of Yusuf’s back and Yusuf sighs and tips his head forward to rest on Nico’s collarbone. 

“Yes,” he says. “Yes, keep going, Nico, _please —_ ”

“ _Yes_ ,” Nico hisses, and thrusts up into him, hard. Yusuf gasps and braces his forehead against Nico’s, staring into his eyes. He wants to reach for him, feel Nico’s broad shoulders under his hands, twine his fingers in his hair, but he can’t. He’s trapped, and it’s Nico holding him, Nico bracing him, Nico keeping him steady and balanced, as he always does, and Yusuf relaxes and lets him, lets go. 

Nico thrusts up, grinding into him, rubbing against his prostate and Yusuf bows forward, gasping. Nico leans forward, latches onto Yusuf’s neck, sucks in a deep, fleeting bruise, and Yusuf groans. Nico reaches between them, keeping one hand braced on Yusuf’s back, and finally _, finally_ , fists his cock, and Yusuf lets out a broken cry and tips his head back, all the feeling crashing around him. The heat of the room, the sweet scent of soap and oils, the sharp mineral smell of the water and the musk of Nico and sweat and sex, the warmth of the water, and Nico, _Nicolò_ , above him, below him, around him. Everywhere, there is Nicolò.

The orgasm builds in his belly, sets him writhing and panting and Nico grins at him and says, “Yusuf, _Yusuf_ , you are so beautiful,” and Yusuf gasps and whimpers and Nico jerks him faster and presses their lips together and whispers into his mouth, “Let go, Yusuf. Come for me.” 

Then he flicks his wrist just so, and Yusuf does.

* * *

“I thought you would be angry,” he says later, much later, relaxing in the warm water with his head on Nico’s shoulder. Their fingers are pruning and he’s almost lightheaded with the heat of the room and the scent of minerals, but he wants to stay here forever. Nico’s fingers toy with his curls, gently untangling and oiling them until they spring back, tickling his neck and face.

“Why would I be angry?” Nicolò murmurs, scratching behind his ear. Yusuf hums and lets his eyes slide shut.

“We were so late,” he says. “So much later than we said we’d be.”

“I wasn’t angry about that, my love,” Nico says softly. “Only worried. Only relieved, when I saw you.”

In retrospect, Yusuf isn’t even sure why he was so convinced Nico would be angry. It was a sign that he himself was beyond stressed and guilty and missing Nico more than he realized. Now, safe in his arms, he sheds all the stress and misery of the mission and just lets himself _be —_ safe, warm and happy in his beloved’s arms.

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  The [bathhouses of Tbilisi](https://www.atlasobscura.com/places/sulfur-baths) are built over natural sulphur springs and date back to the early medieval period. The name "Tbilisi" translates directly to "warm place" and the myth of the city's founding involves the discovery of the springs and the town that sprang up around them. They apparently have a pretty rank scent, but I ignored that for the sake of a sexy atmosphere here. I imagine them visiting [Bathhouse No. 5](https://www.travelsofabookpacker.com/blog/visiting-tbilisi-sulphur-baths-first-time-visitors), the oldest of the bathhouses that still survive today, which is richly decorated with tiling reminiscent of bathhouses in the Islamic world.
> 
> The queen I refer to is [Queen Tamar of Georgia](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tamar_of_Georgia), who ruled from 1184 to 1213 and was cool as hell. I think she and Andy would have been friends. 
> 
> Don't tie people up in bodies of water unless you know what you're doing.
> 
> Visit me on [tumblr](https://prevalent-masters.tumblr.com/), if you want!


End file.
